Fall 1973
Finding My Way
The rains began that year in early October and didn't stop. Well, I think they paused for about 10 minutes on the 19th, at which time everyone dashed out of doors to stare. Nice. Short-lived, but nice.
Know this. That everywhere I needed to go, I needed to go on a bicycle. Have you ever tried to hold an umbrella above yourself whilst propelling yourself on wheels? I ask you. Or here's another one - have you ever tried to hold a guitar whilst propelling... well, I have. In the rain. Through puddles the size of lakes. With cars and other bikes and pedestrians and step-vans lumbering by at speed. It wasn't pretty.
I might as well get it over with and confess, I crashed because of the guitar - and the crash was as spectacular as it was loud. I remember it now in slow motion, the climbing aboard the bicycle, the arranging of the guitar across my back (like Bob Dylan), the hitching of my skirt to a decent length but hoping to keep it out of the spokes. I should have thought of the spokes in terms of the guitar. That would have been smart. But I didn't and so the neck of the guitar caught itself in the spokes and quickly launched me out over the handlebars, throwing my skirt up and over my head.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mernstie/4509421760/
People saw this happen, screamed, and sped to my side. Someone took my pulse while trying to ease me gently out of the puddle (the size of a lake). A man shouted, "I saw you coming and wondered how you would keep the guitar out of the wheel!" That was really helpful. But I was too embarrassed to respond, and pulled vaguely at the skirt.
"Oh, you can't ride anywhere now, you are hurt," said one girl as I made a move toward the handlebars. "You need to go to the Infirmary."
But I was late for a presentation, and the rest of my team would be worried - we needed an A on this one. So I pulled slowly away from the little group standing, watching me go, in the rain.
Stumbling into class just as our team was being introduced, my appearance caused an instant silence. Soaking wet clothing, hair hanging over my face, injured knee and elbow, general dishevelment all around. The professor quickly pulled me aside.
"Are you alright? Your elbow looks terrible! And your knee.."
"Yes, I think so, sir. Can we do our presentation and then can I leave?"
"Of course, you must. It's a miracle you didn't break anything."
http://www.flickr.com/photos/chewychua/88487196/
Since my part of the assignment involved the guitar and a song, I pulled myself together and limped to the front; holding the now slightly battered guitar, I began to sing. It was a children's song meant to help them learn some part of a lesson we had created. The sad looking left elbow was still bleeding and as I sang, to my horror one single drop of blood fell to the table in front of me. It was surreal. One of the girls gasped.
I don't know if it was the cleverness of the song, or the drop of blood, or the validity of the lesson. But the professor stood and clapped at the end.
The following week as he handed out the midterm grades, we were electrified to open ours and see the great, shining red A at the top of the page! Scratched along the bottom the professor had written, "Very dramatic, especially the blood. But next time, WALK."
I'll tell you one thing, I never ever carried a guitar on a bike again. They don't mix well.
See you along the way!
the SconeLady
photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mernstie/4509421760/">maireads</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/">cc</a>
photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/chewychua/88487196/">Chewy Chua</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/">cc</a>
It's amazing that the guitar still played!!!!!!!
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